Crooked Little Smile
by Kaila.Nicole
Summary: It didn't take long to find my target. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he spots me streaking toward him like a silver bullet. - Dylan's fed up with Max's attention always on Fang. He knows exactly how to solve this problem. Post-"Fang"
1. Chapter 1

The tray of food in my hands is growing cold and my patience is wearing thin. _She wasn't supposed to be like this for a whole two weeks_, I complain to my Voice.

"Max?" I don't hear any footsteps and the door doesn't open, signs that she's finally going to come out of this depression. "Max, please come out."

"No! Go away or I'll chop you into tiny pieces!" She hisses and I can tell that she's not even close to the door. She's probably lying on her bed, crying her eyes out over _him_. I'd thought everything would change once he left and I was right. It just hadn't changed the way I'd hoped for.

"Max, come on. You can't stay in your room forever."

"I know," She squeaks in a tiny voice, "But I just lost my best friend, so maybe you'd like to show me some respect and leave me alone, huh?"

"You didn't lose him, Max. He left you, remember? Do I have to read the letter again to you through this door?" I receive no reply and by now, I'm thoroughly pissed off. The tray of food drops from my curled fists, trembling as it comes to a halt on the ground. "I'll be back." She doesn't acknowledge my words, unlike her beloved Fang's. I fixate a grim smile on my face as I head out the front door, the rest of the Flock looking on with blank faces.

\/

It didn't take long to find my target. While his powers involve techniques for hiding like a coward, mine are for seeking out such cowards. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he spots me on the horizon, streaking toward him like a silver bullet. A damp rain is falling and I brush the hair out of my eyes to see him clearly. He looks like hell, his hair shaggy and his clothes torn and bloody, looking like he just walked out of a Nirvana tribute concert. Whatever Max saw in this kid I'd like to know.

"Fancy meeting you here," He winces for some odd reason as a smirk slides across my face.

"Did Max send you?"

"Au contraire, mon ami." The glaze of confusion covers his face again and I can't resist a cheeky laugh at his demeanor. "I sent myself." He doesn't bother asking why. Instead, he takes a seat down on a nearby log, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Does she hate me?"

"She doesn't even remember you," I lie through my teeth, but his eyes aren't on me, so I continue, "Jeb took her to the School." Something in his gaze tightens, hardens, along with his fists. Finally, some life in this kid.

"What did he do to her?"

"Wiped her clean. Anytime she hears the name 'Fang' she thinks we're all talking about that vampire guy," I lean down, stressing each word, "_She doesn't know who you are_." I've been expecting his next move, as he twists like a cat being thrown into the air, turning his body around to connect his fist to my face. I'm quicker, healthier, better than him, though, and I can see it coming. I duck under his lame jab and slam the knife I've been harboring in my jacket sleeve into his ribcage, churning it through his organs and thoroughly enjoying the look of pain he emits. "All this time I've been playing nice and laying low. Now Max will be all mine," I flash him a brilliant smile and the realization hits him harder than the knife protruding from his side, "Welcome to the darkness, Fang."

\/

The tray of food in my hands is still warm when she erupts from her bedroom. Her brown eyes are lifeless, tinged with blood-red circles of tears. I cup my hand around her cheek, stroking my thumb across her soft skin gently.

"Hungry?" She simply nods and I hand the tray of food over to her. She retreats into the darkness of her bedroom where I can hear a TV going, white noise to this beautiful moment. How long have I wanted to touch Max that way? How many times have I tried and never succeeded because Fang was stopping me? "Won't be a problem anymore." A crooked little smile splits across my face.

**AN: Well, I believe it's obvious who Dylan is in the ending. Oooh, spooky. The idea struck me the other day because his obsession with Max is similar to Ari's puppy-dog love for her. Anybody remember him trying to get her to go away with him in the second book? Yeah, definite creep factor. **

**Hope you enjoyed and as always, review! **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Before you read the rest of the story, know this: I haven't read "Angel" yet. But I read enough spoilers to have some sort of take on it, and that, unlike this story, Dylan is just plain Dylan. No hidden inner-Ari. Which is kind of a bummer, but what can you do? Patterson only has one book left in the series, so why pull that kind of card?  
Without further ado, here is the second chapter of "Crooked Little Smile." I hope you enjoy. **

I sink into the undergrowth around me, listening for the sounds of heavy breathing to pierce the quiet. Max wraps her hand around mine tighter and a small, appreciative smile darts across my face. It's soon wiped away, though, as another creature approaches us through the dark, dense forest.

A claw slashes my cheek and pain sears through my nerves. _Pain is just a message_, Max tells me when she's cleaning up my wounds from battle, _simply ignore the call_. I do just that and leap forward, dropping Max's hand, and slam my fist into the Eraser's muzzle. It's odd, fighting on this side, a traitor to my own kind. I can hear the sounds of battle all around me; snarls, muttered curses, and howls fill the air, and it's like a cacophonic symphony, playing on repeat. It sings through my veins and it excites the inner animal that possesses me. I may be in a human-avian body, but I still consider myself an Eraser.

The fight ends abruptly, though, when the last of the Erasers scatter away. Dripping blood and snapping teeth fade away, until there's nothing left but silence. Daylight breaks open the darkness and the Flock is left standing while the light reveals the torn bodies of the canines.

"Ouch," Iggy mutters while nudging his boot against the creatures, "That had to hurt." I guess he's referring to the wide, gaping hole in one of their chests. A grin splits across my face and I congratulate the Igster on a job well done. "Thanks, man."

Max comes over, lip busted and hair akin to a rat's nest, and leans her forehead on my shoulder.

"They should have known better than to come here, anyway," Nudge announces from behind us, "This is Aokigahara Forest." We all look on with stark, confused faces. "It's the second most popular place to commit suicide, the first being the Golden Gate Bridge." That's Nudge for you, always coming up with those interesting and... disturbing facts.

"You should tell that at parties," Gazzy mutters and rolls his eyes. As the sun fully engulfs us all, Max slips her hand into mine and squeezes gently.

"All right, guys, let's head west to Tokyo. After we take down this Itex, we can head back to the states."

"And go to King's Island? Oh, please, please, _please_, Max! I want to ride the roller coasters!" Nudge pleads with wide eyes, the peppy, jumping 13 year-old a stark contrast against the death and destruction around us.

"You have wings. You can fly faster than a 747, Nudge. Why would you ever want to ride a rollercoaster?"

"Have you not seen the commercials? They have one that goes through water! It's like a water park meets a hydraulic-powered coaster!" Nudge continues rambling about the ride's upgrades as Max rolls her eyes and sends me a sympathetic look as if saying, _what can you do?_ After making a promise to Nudge that we would definitely consider going to the adventure park, we take to the skies, leaving the ruin behind us to rot in the rising sun.

It's been eight months since Fang left the Flock. Eight months since I went after him and destroyed his pitiful soul, and seven months since Angel "disappeared."

I didn't mean to kill her, truthfully, but she would have ruined all the plans I conjured up for Max and myself. Once she started glaring at me from across the table, I knew it was time to dispose of her. No one enjoyed having her around, anyway. So, after going out with her for groceries, I raced back to the house and tearfully told Max she'd been taken by an Itex helicopter. I endured hundreds of search-and-rescue missions, which never ended in the latter. Not a trace of her was found. This didn't surprise me, as that's how I wanted – _needed_ - it to be. Sometimes, in my dreams, I can still hear her screaming, those blue eyes widening in fear as the fire engulfed her small frame. The leftover remains were placed in a crow's nest, where they were nibbled upon and ripped apart by the sharp beaks; the irony of it brought me to laughter: the bird girl turning into bird food.

I know I am a monster. In fact, there are worse things that you could call me. But what I did... I did it out of love. For Max, for making sure she would stay by my side, no matter the cost or who I had to kill.

I drift closer to her and as we pass through a cloud, she grins as the moisture tickles her skin. She places her palm in mine, flying underneath me, her eyes darting from the sky above to my wings.

Sometimes, she still has nightmares of Fang, but when she wakes up, it's me that she's holding onto. It's me who wraps her cuts and bruises, it's me who watches over the rest of the Flock while she's having an emotional breakdown. The way it should have been all along. It's me, not Fang now.

\/

"She's going to find out."

"No, she's not. If you keep your mouth shut, she won't ever."

"She can't hear me."

"That's because she doesn't want to."

"And you do?"

"Hate is a more powerful, more passionate emotion than love. My hatred for you overpowers whatever ounce of... feelings you have for her."

"I love her, you asshole!" I can't help but grin. The rest of the Flock is asleep, twenty or so paces behind me, trusting me with their lives. Trusting that I'm not having conversations with ghosts in the dark.

"I sincerely doubt that. If you did, you would have stayed with her."

"Oh, and almost tearing her to pieces a year ago counts as what? Pure adoration? Admit it," He rakes the sharp blade of a pocket knife across a twig, sharpening it with careful precision, "You're no better off than I am. And, in case you forgot, I'm _dead_."

"No, you're a figment of my tortured subconscious. Besides, what reason would _you_ have to stick around?" The knife stills against the wood, tapping in a soft rhythm, until his arm snaps back, impaling the nearest tree bark with the weapon. He turns to me, dark eyes smoldering against the stars above us, and growls.

"I'm protecting Max. It's what I've always done. Did you think death could stop me?" I don't give an answer; he moves away. The dark jeans he's wearing blend in with the rest of the forest, as does everything else about him, aside from his satisfied smirk. It appears like a bolt of lightning, streaking across the black, a half-formed Cheshire grin. I watch it float away into the night, breaking and fading as the ghost moves in between the trees.

"Dylan?" It feels like a bucket of ice water is being dumped into my veins, the sudden cold slicing through the muscles and tissues that bind this shell I'm wearing together.

"Two in the morning already?" Max nods, placing a hand on my shoulder – gently, like she would a small child – and kneads the muscles there.

"Yeah. The fact that you aren't feeling the effects means you're in definite need of some sleep." The shoulder underneath her hand shrugs. I move away, allowing her to take my place, as she settles down for the final watch. Along the edge of the forest, my eyes quickly scan for that same Cheshire grin, but find nothing. It doesn't matter, anyway. Max can't see him, even if he is a real ghost and not a trick of the mind, and that's all I need to know to sleep easily at night. I'm almost back the camp when the sound of a hesitating breath makes me waver in my stride. "Dylan?"

"Mmm?" I don't turn around.

"Is… is there something bothering you?" There's a sudden gust of wind amongst the trees, snapping my jacket around my torso. I zip it up, quickly, and try to ignore the sign just to my left. _Please reconsider, your life is precious_, it reads in Japanese, the white letters scratched into the rotting wood. Of course the Flock would set up camp around a suicide-prevention billboard.

"Nothing I can think of." By the time my words reach her, I'm already curling up in the sleeping bag left abandoned by Max, and my eyes are flickering shut. She says something in return, but I don't catch it, and the silence that falls between us is comfortable once again.

"Get some shut eye, sleeping beauty." A quick assessment of my surroundings reveals a black figure just off to the left, leaning against the sign with his Cheshire grin, the one who's bidding me goodnight, "You're gonna need it."


End file.
